Me and Dorothea and the Rocket Wheel by Hunter Boone

She had a face sopitted by acneshe was the walking surfaceof a cratered moon.I sat kitty-corner across from her inadvanced English class.One thing I noticed: her body’s shape,an erotic transportshe would offer to anyone.

I seldom spoke to herbut one day at a carnivalwe rode the rocket wheel together.Spinning, I put my arm around her and breathed on her face and neck andher two warm cheeks.Then we kissed.

No one complained until later after our feet touched the groundtwo boys shouted behind us,“Look at that dyke with the pizza face!Are you going to eat your pizza?”My face and neck flushed red-hotbut I kept my arm around herwhile we strolled quiet as micethrough the park.

When we got to my father’s Chevyshe crawled alone into the back seat and wept,covering her head with both arms.An hour later she whispered,“Into each life a little rain must fall.”